


Lost blood-soaked Beloveds

by Brrr_machine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hair-pulling, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Kissing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Hannibal Lecter, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, coming to terms with feelings, teasing on the beach, the boys recovering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brrr_machine/pseuds/Brrr_machine
Summary: After the Fall, Will and Hannibal lie on the beach and talk and get a little physical at the end...,,,,Honest summary?? It's just them coming to term with their feelings. Self-indulgent and I am obsessed with their dynamic. Wrote this at 11:05 and rly just wanted to get it out there so if you see mistakes pls let me know so I can go correct them. <33
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After the Fall, Will and Hannibal lie on the beach and talk and get a little physical at the end...  
> ,  
> ,  
> ,  
> ,  
> Honest summary?? It's just them coming to term with their feelings. Self-indulgent and I am obsessed with their dynamic. Wrote this at 11:05 and rly just wanted to get it out there so if you see mistakes pls let me know so I can go correct them. <33

There is water between my teeth. It floods my throat and intrudes my mind with the pervasive taste of cruel sea salt.

I’m under the currents, choking from the blanket of blue wrapping screaming waves around my body. Twitching hands tug at my tattered shirt. This manner is desperate it will not last much longer.

Our breathing is empty, my eyelids heavy, and throats ache for the release of air and the comfort of each other’s fingers tight, loving and dripping in red.

Between life and the void there is an undercurrent of a thought subduing my consciousness.

Tired. And I don’t want to move.

Selfish I know but falling off a cliff with your blood-soaked beloved does tend to drain one’s energy.

So, I am leaving the decision on someone else’s plate, whether I drown or not is no longer a concern of mine.

Per nature, I’ll flirt with the unknown for a little longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Well...Per his nature – no matter how stubborn and reckless that nature is, neither of us were emerging through the doors of heaven tonight.

Instead opening my eyes, I was greeted by dark yawning waves twinkling soft stars from the twilight world above. Seagulls cawed in the distant and palm trees rustled in the corner of my eyes. 

I sighed and stretched my back. My body was still sore yet thankfully relived at the loss of adrenaline running through my organs. This realisation was further enforced as I touched around the sides of my body and found the wounds Dolerhyde had inflicted completely gone.

What I found was bandages. Pale, fresh and tight around my body. My fingers quivered as I glided over the wound. Weak in my touch. Not as weak as my head that continued to bear irritating weight on my frontal lobe with the resilience of Hera. Pestering little thought hornets piercing my brain, desperate to be addressed. They needed- no- wanted to be addressed. I didn’t want to address them. Nothing should be bearing so much weight on my poor lethargic state especially considering how tired I was, so I banished them to the depths of my mind palace out of spite.

I sighed. How abhorrent emotions are. I detest them wholeheartedly. 

Well…except for a few emotional responses such as my uncontrollable ‘feelings’ for a certain snappy profiler.

Speaking of which where was he? I felt a little sheepish that I hadn't averted my attention to the absence of Will sooner and decided to find my legs and search the beach for him. 

I found him eventually settling alone by the rocks, high up on a particularly large boulder and staring out at the sea with a vacant look in his eyes. I couldn’t help the curving of my lips as he's eyes averted down to meet mine. His lips parting in quiet surprise, before he begun to climb down the boulder to greet me. When Will was close enough in my presence I flashed him a small smile before reaching out to pull him into a hug. I didn't get my hug. Instead Will drew back his fist and hit me. The punch sent my head snapping to the side but even that couldn’t stop the delight along my face. 

“It’s always a pleasure to be greeted by such unfaltering compassion as yours.” I titled my head upright to behold the gorgeous dark scowl upon Will’s face. 

Will didn’t reply, instead he shot forward and pushed me down. Calloused hands fisting into my hair and forcibly turning my face to meet his beautiful, flaring eyes.

I had to suck in a sharp breath before Will began to growl into my face. “You should be dead. We should be dead.” Each vowel as a rough as the eroded cliff above and made my body lurch in response. 

“Then why aren’t we Will?” I hummed, titling my head further back in his hands, enjoying the closeness and specially the way his fists tightened in response. 

“You don’t want to be alive?” I brought my hand up to rest on his arm in comfort, mimicking the clutch he held onto me before our fall. 

The action was deliberate. A gentle reminder of his becoming. 

Will narrowed his eyes at my touch and begun to recoil. Tight fingers went loose between my locks and I was pushed back down with will’s legs straddling my hips. 

I frowned. “Disappointing. I like your hands.” 

Will huffed and a remorseful chuckle escape his lips. “You’re sick.” He whispered against my face.

“That makes two of us.”

Will bent his head low, dark overgrown curls hung forward and concealed an unwanted expression. 

Dear lord, Will was gorgeous. Taking all my restraint I made sure my hands did not to reach out and tangle my fingers between those lovely chestnut locks.

Completely distracted by will’s hair I had realised he was speaking. “Bedelia called it my ‘ache’ for you.” Will began through gritted teeth. “I call it my desire to be swallowed up by the madness you have besotted within my stomach.” 

He raked a hand through his curls and shot up to meet my gaze. “I never asked for this Hannibal.” 

…

I melt at the sight. Hot steel barriers of unfaltering blankness drip down my skull like molten gold. I was displayed, mesmerised and engulfed under the canopy of dark lashes of Will’s eyes.  
And underneath that lay the fervent blue flames of unmuzzled intensity swirling around in his pupils like whirlpools of something unfathomable. Anger. Love. Hatred. Hunger. Blurred between the greens and blues I found myself lost within a new ocean of darkness and could not be pulled out of. 

From his perspective it must have been quite a sight. Hannibal Lecter. FBI’s most wanted, his psychiatrist, his friend, his monster, contorted, broken and dishevelled by the tides of limbo yet alive and fully mesmerised underneath the dangerous arms of Will Graham. Beautiful, breathing Will. 

Well. I certainly made sure I was behaved.

“No but you desired it.” I murmured. 

Will grimaces. “Maybe Hannibal maybe. Even so, now I find myself unable to cope with the notion of the Chesapeake ripper dying without me or my hands.” Eyes remained narrowed and hold a seriousness to the semi-romantic tenderness of his words. What? My Interpretation is a granted handout upon the borders of conversation. If Will wishes to be so generous with his affection tonight, then I am going to savour that sweet taste upon my ears for a long time. 

“I’d rather kiss the reaper’s scythe then let that happen.” Will growls. “I can’t let anyone or anything else take you down. I won’t allow it.” 

Oh my, looks like Will is feeling extra affection tonight.

I mull over his sentences in my head. I have a sudden aversion to respond and just let myself eat up Will’s words as the silence and staring is rather nice. The yawning waves felt even more distance now. 

In my lack of speech, Will slowly raises a hand to cup my cheek and I become absolutely struck by how tender and warm his hands are. It makes my body ache.

It’s only until Will starts rubbing soft fingers over my skin that I began to realise the heat rising from his touch. 

Oh Will. You and your sinful fingers. 

I close my eyes and eagerly lean into the palm of Will’s hand. So soft. So unbelievably lovingly soft. It comes to my attention that if Will wanted to kill me with hands right now, I would allow it; - perhaps I might even beg for it.

“You were unconscious for several days.” Will murmurs softly. “And everyday…. everyday felt like the ‘ache’ was becoming unswallowable. I-” Will shuts his mouth and huffs as he gathers his thoughts. “…I couldn’t bear the thought that you left without me. It. Haunted my mind every second.” 

My own mind seemed to be on autopilot and continued to defy me of words. Instead, my hand reached up to caress over Will’s fingers. I was still recovering from the fall, so my weak hands weren’t as grounding as they normal are yet somehow my movements gentle enough to make the poor boy shudder beautifully. 

Will in turn closed his eyes and breath stilled. Yet his hands, gorgeous hands, begun to roam further up until they were laced between my unkept silver strands.

I sighed as he gently begun rubbing into my scalp. Will’s fingers seemed rougher than I remember, with palms hardened from some kind of unknown labour. And another thing came to my attention. He smelled strangely of blood. 

But that was conversation for later. 

“I need you Hannibal.” Will breathes out. “I need you petty, insufferable son of bitch in my life more than I have ever needed anyone.” His voice is beginning to rise as he stares at me.

I stare back and let his words absorb me, edging him to say more. To say the unsayable, to shatter the final walls of our boundless companionship and see each other fully revelling in complete spoken devotion to each other. 

Just say it Will. Please.

The whirlpools have become tainted with the soft glimpses of Will’s tears. “I-fuck-” Will breaks off from the eye contact to quickly wipe his eyes with his un-caressing hand. 

I chuckle just a little and Will shoots back to glare at me, eyes red and stinging. I muster the strength to push myself back into sitting position. “Come now Will, it’s not every day I get to see you so vulnerable let me enjoy the moment.” 

I bring my other hand up to rest on his face and just like that Will’s irritation washes away under my fingertips. Oh boy, how I can feel him tremble under my skin, it’s breathtaking. This side of Will, so precious and lost and in need of my protection. Going weak for me, it’s a thought that drives me mad as I try to pretend not to hear the whimper that escape his lips or the obvious pink tint stretching across his cheeks, or the clouded look in his eyes and head reeling full of dangerous thoughts. 

I pretend not to let my own feelings get the best of me. Especially the possessiveness, as several rather dark and unflattering thoughts run through my head. 

A realisation also arises. Will has been become almost achingly, touched starved for touch. More importantly, my touch. And that thought floods my body with dark, malicious hunger. 

I’m caught back to the present by Will’s sudden voice. “I missed you.” It’s far too quick for my liking. The words deadly sincere with the elegance of a roman cathedral in his mouth. 

When he says it, he looks at me and his eyes are soft. There is this desperate almost– adoring looks in the flushed blue and I almost lose it.

“I missed you too.” Is all I can get out. 

We continue to caress each other’s hair. Touches beginning to settle on slow and borderline teasing. Will run his fingers up the back of my head and ever-so often stops to curl his fist around my hair. I suppress the shudder down my body but Wills far too hyper-aware of human activity to not notice the muffled sound in my throat. 

So instead saying nothing, Will wraps his hand around the back of my head and pulls me roughly forward so our foreheads touch. 

I can now make out every little mark, dint and detail along will’s face. Every imperfection, beauty and part along his plush red lips begging to be touched, engulfed and sucked upon. 

“Are you really going to make me say it.” He murmurs, eyelashes fluttering. 

I swallow hard. This boy is going to be the death of me. “Yes.” I gasped. 

“Fine then.” Will smirks and lunges forward and from then on, it’s all tongues and teeth. Bodies wrapped under each other. I’m back on the sand and fighting against arms of iron and lips dangerously sharp against my skin. 

There is now blood on my lips, and I moan into Will’s mouth as he lapses it up.

...

Will truly is the end and beginning of all that I am and all that I will ever be.

Hands claw down my chest and tear through my clothes. I will never be able to love as passionate and fervent as the blue flames that pierce into my soul in the way that I love and worship everything that is the moulded monster of Will graham.

Will's breath becomes sonorous and deep within my mouth. He stares me down with dark, hooded eyes never hollow but will never bore light again. 

He is mine. In the same sick way that I am entirely his. Intertwined and drowned in each other's presence. 

My blood-soaked beloved boy.


End file.
